


Let’s Get Frick Fracked

by TheVoiceofWrath (meet_your_fate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Derek Hale, Truth Spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_your_fate/pseuds/TheVoiceofWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Derek glares down at Stiles. “I can’t  believe you. I left you alone for five minutes and you triggered a witch’s trap. We weren’t even after a witch. It’s amazing, the trouble you get yourself into.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let’s Get Frick Fracked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elleliteration](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleliteration/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for [elleliteration](http://elleliteration.tumblr.com/). She requested truth serum, so I delivered a truth curse instead.

"Wow, you’re really pretty. Like, really _super_ pretty. What color even are your eyes? I can never decide. It’s like they change depending on the light.”

Derek glares down at Stiles. “I can’t believe you. I left you alone for five minutes and you triggered a witch’s trap. We weren’t even after a witch. It’s amazing, the trouble you get yourself into.”

"I’m sure I can’t possibly be blamed," Stiles says with a grin. He’s lying on the floor like an idiot, right where he fell when the curse went off. "It’s your fault for leaving me unattended. But that’s okay. You’re wearing those jeans today that hug your ass just right and I wouldn’t hold anything against you on Especially Tight Pants Day."

Derek snarls a little as he hauls Stiles up off the floor. “Stop talking. We’re going to see Deaton so he can make this torture stop.”

"I like it when you manhandle me, you know. You just move me around like I don’t weigh anything," Stiles muses, like one would discuss the weather. Like it’s a mildly pleasant fact. "Makes a guy feel small in a good way. And when you shove me up against a wall—"

"I will gag you. Don’t think for one second that I won’t." Derek ushers Stiles towards the door. God, he has to get Stiles to Deaton ASAP. This is ridiculous.

"I don’t really think I’m into gags, as a general rule, but I’m game. I’m game for so much, Derek, you don’t even know. I’m game for _all_ the things. How’s that saying go? I’ll try anything twice? Yeah, that’s it.”

Stiles doesn’t even stop when Derek shoves him into the passenger side of the Jeep. He just waits for Derek to get behind the wheel and keeps going. “And I think you should know, for like your edification or something, that you have been top shelf spank bank material since your _get off my lawn_ routine that day in the woods. I mean, then it was just getting frick fracked up against a tree by the mysterious Derek Hale, but it—”

Derek makes a face. “I don’t even know what you just said.”

"What, ‘frick frack’? You know, like, doing the do. Going to pound town. The—"

"Stop. Stop it, oh my _god_ , forget I asked. I am so _very_ sorry that I asked.”

"You shouldn’t be so embarrassed. It’s sex and I know that it’s something you’ve had before, so what’s with the blushing thing? Why are you blushing? Your ears are red and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. How can you be so stupid hot and so ridiculously adorable at the same time?" Stiles asks, gaping as if he’s truly mystified. "That isn’t fair. How are mere mortals supposed to compete with the likes of you?"

And, really, Derek _is_ blushing. He wishes Stiles wouldn’t draw attention to it because it’s not like something he can control. He just glares out at the road, wishing the trip to the vet’s would somehow take less time. But Derek doesn’t speed because his mother taught him to be a responsible driver. It’s important to be a good citizen.

"Pull over," Stiles says.

"No."

"Pull over right now; I wanna suck your dick. I wanna suck it until you cry. Which, wow, don’t really please because that would be mortifying. A no tears blowjob. That’s what’s in our future if you pull over."

Derek’s grip tightens on the wheel and he glares harder at the road. “We’re going to Deaton and he’s going to fix this mess.”

"Okay, fine. Don’t take the free blowjob. Whatever. Like I care," Stiles says in a tone that absolutely suggests he cares. The pout Derek can see out of the corner of his eye proves that, too. "Let’s go back to the wall shoving. That’s a subject we haven’t finished yet. You know, I always jerk it like crazy when I’m alone after those encounters, right? Like, I don’t even know how far your hearing reaches, but I count to a hundred when you vault out my window and then I put my hand down my—"

Derek reaches over and covers Stiles’s mouth with his hand. Sure, now he can’t use his blinker when he makes turns, but he manages to reach Deaton’s without getting into trouble with the law. God, what if the Sheriff had pulled them over…?

He leads Stiles into the building and keeps his hand over Stiles’s mouth the entire time. And it’s not that it keeps Stiles from talking; it just muffles the words so Derek has no idea what Stiles is saying, which he just  _knows_ is a Very Good Thing. He stays just long enough for Deaton to make the stream of awful babbling stop and then he flees. He just wants to pretend this whole mess never happened, to put it out of his mind entirely and move on. After all, who even knows what the curse did? It’s not like Stiles really _meant_ any of that. Right?

If he replays the awful things Stiles said when he gets home, and if his own hand ends up down his pants, well… No one has to know and it’s not like Derek doesn’t constantly feel guilty anyway.

♦

When Stiles shows up at his loft, Derek isn’t really surprised. Stiles is probably here to apologize.

But the look on Stiles’s face doesn’t really look very apologetic. No, Stiles looks _mad_. Furious, really. Derek finds himself taking a few cautious steps back. “Did Deaton get you fixed up?”

"Yeah. Yeah, he did, all of about three seconds after you ran away. That was real classy, man."

Derek’s brows furrow in confusion and maybe a little bit of his own anger. “What is that supposed to mean?”

"I said all that stuff and, yeah, I’m real sorry I inflicted it on you, but I was under the effects of _magic_. It’s not like I could keep my deepest, darkest secrets to myself, okay? But you didn’t have to flee like you were gonna catch the plague or something. It’s not like I’m going to say anything like that now that I’m in possession of my faculties and I’m sure as hell not gonna, like, _grope_ you. You don’t have to worry about it. Honestly, I would’ve thought you’d be a little more sensitive about the situation instead of making me feel like I have cooties.”

Derek is completely thrown. “What? _Cooties_? When did I ever say anything about you having _cooties_?”

"You didn’t. Obviously. You just ran for the hills at the earliest opportunity. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still in the state."

"I didn’t run _from_ you, Stiles, I was worried the magic was making you say things that weren’t true and I figured you’d be upset and embarrassed if I was around!”

Stiles blinks at Derek for a moment before all of his anger just deflates. “Oh. Well, I’m not upset. Embarrassed, yes, but not upset. It’s not like I was _lying_. I just… I just said some stuff I’ve been trying not to say for a while because I figured it would make you uncomfortable. I mean, I don’t have much control over my brain-to-mouth filter on a good day, but this was kind of an extreme circumstance…”

"So, you… you meant all that?" Derek asks. He might be blushing a little bit again. God, the back of his neck feels warm and he knows the ridges of his ears are red. "About the, um. The ‘frick fracking’?"

Stiles nods. “Yeah…”

"And about liking to be manhandled and pushed against walls?"

Stiles pulls a mildly cranky expression. “Don’t rub it in, jerk face.”

Derek moves closer to Stiles, maybe crowding him a little. Maybe to get him up against the wall. “I’m not rubbing it in, Stiles. I’m just clarifying the facts here. You’re sure you’re sober now?”

Stiles’s eyes roll, even as he lets out a  _squeak_ -like sound when the wall hits his back. “It’s not like I was _un_ sober. I was just uninhibited. Big difference between the two.”

Derek nods. “Good to know,” he says as he presses a hand to the wall over Stiles’s shoulder and leans in close. “Then I should tell you how close I was to pulling over and taking you up on that blowjob offer…”

"Sweet Jesus, Derek, you can’t just say stuff like that," Stiles says. Stiles gulps and Derek can smell the lust rising in him. It’s a good smell, a smell Derek’s encountered before, but apparently he didn’t understand that the lust was directed at him. Maybe he’s been kind of oblivious. Maybe he hasn’t wanted to examine it too closely, though, because he was afraid.

But he knows now. He _knows_ that Stiles wants him and he isn’t going to ignore it now. “Why? Why shouldn’t I say things like that?”

"Because—Because you’ll break my brain, god, don’t say it unless you mean it!"

Derek runs the tip of his nose along the side of Stiles’s jaw. Scenting, really, but Stiles doesn’t need to know that. “I mean it.”

"Really?" Stiles asks, voice quiet and tentative in a way Derek isn’t used to hearing it. _Fragile_ , really. Like Stiles is afraid of being rejected even when Derek is being plainly obvious. Derek doesn’t think Stiles has a lot of experience with being wanted.

"Really. And, oh look, here we are against a wall. Whatever shall we do?" Derek teases because, yes, he _is_ capable of lightening the mood a little bit.

"We should… We should, like, make out or something," Stiles says. "And then maybe do the do. If, you know. You want. You do want to, right?"

"Yes, Stiles I want to," Derek says, pressing his other hand to Stiles’s waist and shifting closer, Stiles’s body heat against his front. "Does it look like I don’t want to?"

Stiles is looking at Derek, into his eyes like he thinks maybe he’ll find something there. Deception maybe, Derek isn’t sure. But Stiles won’t find anything like that.

"Okay," Stiles says. "You want to. You haven’t sprung any witch’s traps, right? This is you, totally uncursed?"

Derek just has to roll his eyes because, really? Is Stiles _trying_ to find reasons not to do this? “Yes, I’m totally uncursed. I’m going to kiss you now, so say no or shut it.”

Stiles snickers. “A little aggressive there, aren’t you?”

Derek will show Stiles _aggressive_. He hauls Stiles up against the wall, one hand under Stiles’s ass, and kisses the daylights out of him. Stiles lets out a sound that implies he may have swooned a little, were he on his own two feet.

And then, after Derek has kissed Stiles so thoroughly that Stiles complains his lips have gone numb, Derek blows Stiles and feels really smug when he notices the saline scent of Stiles’s eyes watering. Not that he can feel smug for _long_ , what with the sweet, sweet sounds Stiles is making or the way Stiles is scrabbling at his shoulders and clutching at his hair.

There’s a little more smugness when Stiles comes, shouting Derek’s name, though. That might’ve had something to do with Derek’s wandering fingers…

♦

When they figure out who the witch is a week and a half later, Stiles personally thanks her and asks where he can send the flowers. Derek thinks that’s going a _little_ overboard, considering they’re also running the witch out of town, but whatever. He’s kind of grateful, too.

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [tumblr](http://thevoiceofwrath.tumblr.com/), let's be bros ♥


End file.
